


Spoopy fic

by Get_below_my_line_of_vision



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Angst and Humor, Comedy, F/F, Gen, M/M, Multi, Vampire Slayer(s), Vampires, Were-Creatures, Werewolf Hunters, halloween time, spoopy season
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:22:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26910574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Get_below_my_line_of_vision/pseuds/Get_below_my_line_of_vision
Summary: Éponine and Enjolras are exes but they still hunt vampires together. Sure, they bicker and insult each other casually, but they're good friends.Two major story lines (they are intertwined):Grantaire is a vampire who is interested in magic and thus is best friends with Éponine, a witch. The problem here is that her ex, Enjolras, hates all vampires and, from time to time, tries to kill him. He seems to have the mentality of 'If I can't kill him, no one can' and would drop anything if Grantaire was ever in trouble. Not that he would voice this out loud.Jean Valjean is a werewolf. Cosette too. Éponine observes the love of family and wishes to belong somewhere, perhaps with them.
Relationships: Combeferre/Courfeyrac (Les Misérables), Cosette Fauchelevent & Jean Valjean, Cosette Fauchelevent & Jean Valjean & Javert & Éponine, Cosette Fauchelevent/Éponine Thénardier, Enjolras & Gavroche Thénardier, Enjolras & Éponine Thénardier, Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables), Enjolras/Éponine Thénardier (past), Grantaire & Éponine Thénardier
Comments: 22
Kudos: 15





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [enjscurls](https://archiveofourown.org/users/enjscurls/gifts), [Intheeyeofthehurricane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Intheeyeofthehurricane/gifts), [getoffmybarricade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/getoffmybarricade/gifts), [thejokerghost](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thejokerghost/gifts), [rev1832](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rev1832/gifts), [anniewritesaboutstars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anniewritesaboutstars/gifts), [general_history_reference](https://archiveofourown.org/users/general_history_reference/gifts).



Under the moonlight, all winds ceased. The air had turned light and the sky was in absolute black, conveying the total sense of a vacuum. Roaming the forest felt like he was floating: surreal. 

Between his dust-covered fingers, he stroked his silver bullet. Carefully, he inserted it into his old-fashioned gun. He controlled his breathing as he searched for a place to hideout.

Behind a bush, he crouched and waited. 

His heartbeats increased and blood rushed through his veins; all triggered by a silent howl. Grinning, he moved quietly to the back of a tree. Just from a faint sound, he was able to locate the direction in which the howl originated from. He checked his gun for good measure, and patiently waited for the wolf to enter the shooting range.

The crunchy leaves below served him well, sending him information in how close the wolf was getting. From the sound alone, he could detect the wolf was graceful but had large paws. It was heavy and abnormally large. Definitely a werewolf.

With his left hand, he gently touched the bark of the tree as he leaned out to peak. There was a beautiful, almost to the point of myth, creature. It had long light brown fur, and big round eyes. It was sniffing the ground. Even for a male, it was huge. But it wasn’t an alpha. Jackpot. He could take it alone and prove himself to the community.

With his foot slowly lifted, he took a leap out and was consumed by the adrenaline within and successfully shot the wolf in its chest. At first, all he could do was smile widely. However upon seeing how the wolf struggled and twitched on the ground Javert took a step back. He was reminded of how beautiful the creature was and what he had done to it.

Though… Silver should have killed it? Why was it still alive? Upon watching the wolf try and scramble away, he realised it was purely motivated by determination. But who or what would be so determined?

A howl so loud it could echo throughout the forest occurred from the heavily injured wolf. Frightened to the core, he took several steps back, stumbling. With panic consuming his vision, observation became paramount. Then he realised it.

As the wolf helplessly dragged itself to the shadows of the forest, he realised the wolf was not a male. It was a female. And it was exceptionally large because it was pregnant.

He took in broken segments of the air as his head became light. Another howl sounded. Yet there was no additional sound which indicated other wolves were coming to its aid. The wolf… The mother.... She was all alone... 

Pulling himself away from the grasp of sympathy, he told himself not to risk it and decided it was now his turn to escape and run away. 

Every step he took, he felt as if he was floating. But this time it wasn’t because it was surreal; no, it was too real. His feet were numb, his heart was banging like drums, and all noise orbiting around him screamed in viscous high pitch. 

Once he hurriedly exited the last row of trees and into free space, he didn’t look back. He couldn’t. Guilt overcame him. How could he have murdered a child wolf? No matter how much he wanted to take his mind off of it, he couldn’t stop thinking about how he had been all alone in his life. How he never had a mother, how he was never held, how he was always alone. 

Javert let this moment eat his mind for years to come.


	2. Chapter 2

Years later, an innocent morning began. The sky was light blue, the clouds were white as snow, and the air was as thin and cold. There was no wind to carry bad news and the birds twittered to indicate how early it was.

From a cottage, a little too far away from the nearby town, Combeferre emerged out, a mug in hand. Sighing, he observed the bright morning and breathed in peacefully, inhaling all the happiness he could. He closed his eyes, imagining how, when he was a child, this was what he wished his life would be: perfect.

Then a floppy object hit him in the face and made a perfect fall into his mug. As soon as he opened his eyes, he knew what it was: a newspaper. And he also knew who threw it. “Gavroche!” Combeferre yelled in the deepest pitch he could manage in order to paint some kind of authority in his voice; but it was no use. Gavroche cycled away, cackling.

After watching Gavroche trying to ride through the muddy, grassy terrain, Combeferre looked down at his mug of coffee and the bottom of the soggy newspaper that perfectly fit into it. Disappointed but not surprised, he pulled the newspaper out and waved it around recklessly to get rid of all the potential caffeine dripping in the house.  
Then, with the newspaper under his arm, entered back into his small, quaint home.

First, he unrolled the newspaper. There was always a name he had to search for every time he received one. In the usual column, he was impressed there was no mention of Courfeyrac or any of his friends. It was never like they were ever found out by the public with all their “hunting”, but it was more of how they were perceived as goofy, random, “queer” by the public. He was sure the word choice referred to the synonym of ‘peculiar’ but it did describe them perfectly either way.  
It was miraculous in how they would never be spotted in the actual fighting, but would be easily spotted doing something suspicious. Oh, they bought ten cello tapes and were wrapping coins onto a stanger’s face for “safety”? Seen. Oh, they were fighting werewolves with a gun fully loaded with silver bullets? Never seen.

Combeferre yawned as he entered his bedroom with Courfeyrac sleepily getting up. He jokingly hit him in the head with the newspaper, “Well done you goof.”  
“I’m sooooorry. What did I do this time?”  
“Nothing, babe.” He grinned, “Your name wasn’t mentioned in the usual column.”  
“Sweet!’  
He brought the coffee to his lips until remembering it was probably paper-flavoured by now. “Here. Celebratory coffee.” He lowered the mug into Courfeyrac’s hands as he sat on the bed next to him.

As if he was handed gold, Courfeyrac stared wide-eyed at the mug. “You dropped the newspaper here, didn’t you?”  
“How did you--? Gavroche did it, not me!”  
He laughed, “That little bastard, I love him.” He kissed ‘Ferre’s cheek, “I can fit pieces together. The newspaper is wet at the bottom and you never offer me a coffee. Also, you should probably look at other parts of the newspaper. Maybe I’m on the first page, stealing the spotlight of the ‘citizen of the week’ or something.” He stood up and stretched.  
“I doubt it.”  
“And why’s that, honey?”  
Combeferre cleared his throat loudly and opened his mouth to read out loud the title of the front page. But the mute button was pressed on his voice. No words came out. In shock, he looked up at the smiling Courfeyrac until the latter also dropped his smile.  
“What’s wrong?” Courfeyrac muttered.  
“Fey… It says here there have been sightings of a wolf… A large wolf…”  
“Alright! More werewolves? I’ll have to show that I am strong and capable to the hunting community-”  
“Look at the concept art.”

Courfeyrac sat back down on the edge of the bed and held the newspaper, bringing it closer and closer to his face to make sure no description was lost. “Shit… That’s an Alpha.”  
“That’s right.”  
“An Alpha! That’s like… the hardest to kill!”  
“Obviously. You can’t go on your own now. Didn’t you tell me that if you spot an Alpha, it would lead you to other werewolves in its pack?”  
“Right. So all I have to do its follow it and-”  
“You need backup.”  
“Yes- Well, uh… I… Don’t know anyone. I’m pretty much a lone hunter.”  
“Fey!”  
“What?” He shrugged. “I can’t get along with the other hunters.”  
Combeferre sighed heavily, overcome with worry for his boyfriend. “I’m calling backup.”  
“What? ‘Ferre, you don’t know any hunters either… Do you?”  
“No.” ‘Ferre sighed as he walked over to the top of their drawer and picked up his phone. “I’m calling Enj.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't written in a long time so here's a chapter written at 5am in the morning. But it was written with love nevertheless~ :)

It was as if they spent most of their lives living in the shadows. This time, it wasn’t metaphorical. Enjolras and Éponine were literally hiding behind low brick walls, spying on the low chatter of the monsters from the other side.

These creatures were not gruesome looking; that made them difficult to track down. Instead, they appeared human-like with a few, subtle exceptions. Fortunately to them (to Enjolras and Éponine and not the two men-looking monsters; the situation was in fact very unfortunate to the latter) Enjolras and Éponine had been fighting for so long they were able to recognise their minute, unique features. Here, for example: their skin would have lighter skin tone blotches and a lot of acne. Something about hardly feeling sunlight… Made their skin look teenager-y.

Nowadays with many adults staying at home, viewing their world through their technology, there had been times when Éponine planned a break-in to a human’s home. Ever since then Enjolras had to agree that their targets were in fact supernatural beings because relying only on his ex’s instincts were evidently not the best idea.

Beyond the low brick wall they were hiding on opposite sides were two men. One looked outrageously ancient, and the other who looked rather handsome but had a pompous laughter and spoiled attitude. ‘Probably a daddy’s boy,’ Enjolras thought.

From following Enjolras’ silent signal and Éponine’s showcase of reciprocation by nodding, the two began to crawl almost like animals over the wall. The witch slowly raised her staff, ready to whack the unsuspecting villains. Seeing how they were undetected and that this would be a clean kill, Éponine licked her lips. Enjolras pulled a wooden stake out of his sleeve and raised it, ready to pierce the old man’s chest.

Then a romantic pop music sounded loudly. Immediately Enjolras sighed loudly and picked up his phone and stared at it, “My bad,” He said out loud to Éponine who was now trying to fight to keep her and her distracted Enjolras alive.  
“Can you please turn it off and help me, you bastard?” She gritted her teeth and yelled as she tried to strike one of the vampires.  
“Huh,” He narrowed his eyes, “It’s Combeferre.”  
“That’s great, honey,” She bit her tongue after calling him the pet name she used to use in their happy moments in their marriage, in other words their early stages of marriage, “Help me right now or I swear to god I won’t let you see Gavroche for a month!”  
“A month?! That’s harsh.” He answered the phone and fought with his free hand. Surprisingly, armed with years of practice, he ‘nailed it’, almost effortlessly fighting. Albeit I should emphasise he was handling the old, sluggish man rather than the young, energetic vampire, so his action wasn’t really much of a showcase of his talent. “Hi, Combeferre, no time no see.”

Éponine could hear a muffled voice from his phone.  
“It’s actually ‘long time no see’.”  
“I see. No, no, you’re right. I’m just a bit… Distracted right now.”  
“Bad timing?”  
“Yes!” Éponine shouted as she ran away from the vampire chasing her.  
Enjolras watched her struggle. “No, I wouldn’t say you’re bothering us at all.”  
“Alright then,” Combeferre spoke in an unsure tone, “Fey is insisting on capturing a wolf.”  
Enjolras dodged a hook heading right at him but missed his aim on the stabbing back. He clicked his tongue in disappointment. “What, like a pet? Just get a dog like the rest of us.”  
“No,” Combeferre sighed.  
“Enj,” Courfeyrac interjected.  
“I’m Enjolras to you, Courfeyrac.” Enjolras kicked the old man down and successfully stabbed him. The vampire’s skin started to convert into steam, and his eyes sunk into his skull, and a croaky sound, like a frog’s, escaped the vampire’s mouth. Enjolras stared at the corpse in disgust like a child who’s hand touched the wet food at the bottom of the sink when they were washing the dishes.

“I know we are going to be great friends,” Courfeyrac said over the phone in great confidence, “And I know how we can bond. We are going to hunt a werewolf together!”  
Enjolras gave out a fake, exaggerated gasp.

On the other end Combeferre exhaled loudly, “Look, I don’t want my partner to die while hunting an alpha so I would very much appreciate it if you can come here and-”  
“An alpha?” Enjolras’ eyes widened, “Why didn’t you lead with that? A ‘wolf’? Really, Combeferre? That’s how you decide to describe an alpha-- I will be there by tomorrow, okay? Make sure your boyfriend or fiance doesn’t leave tonight. I know how impatient he is.”  
“He’s my husband, actually.”  
“I don’t believe in marriage, bye.” With that, Enjolras hung up.

From hearing the distanced sounds of grunts Enjolras ran towards the source to find Éponine lifting her staff into the air and crashing it down to the cement below, causing cracks to form, and blow away the young vampire.  
Enjolras jogged up to her. “Well done.”  
“I didn’t do this for your approval.”  
“You could have used your magic earlier.”  
“I did but he kept dodging it. Honestly, if you procrastinated picking up your phone like you procrastinated our divorce papers we would’ve finished this in less than,” she looked at her wrist which was absent of a watch, “Two minutes. To add onto me being disappointed in you, I didn’t get a say.”  
“They didn’t ask for you.”  
“We come in a package.” She pulled out her phone and pressed it against her ear.  
“You do magic. Use your magic to contact them.”  
“Courfeyrac is quite frightened of magic. Last time I used it, he fainted and our poor Combeferre had to catch him. And now shush he’s answered.” She turned her back against Enjolras. “Hey Courfeyrac. Uh-huh, yeah, I know. Do you need any more-? Oh, you don’t? Relay what you said to Combeferre.” She tapped her foot before Enjolras could hear Combeferre ask her to join the hunt. In immediate response to this Enjolras rolled his eyes. Upon sensing Enjolras’ depressing and rude attitude, Éponine tagged, “Oh you know what? Since you don’t know a lot of hunters, is it okay if I can take my apprentice with me?”  
Enjolras’ eyes widened in surprise as well as from pride. He had been teaching Éponine’s brother for years and finally he got to-  
“Okay, I’ll be sure to remind Grantaire about this! Uh-huh. Okay. Goodbye. I’m hanging up.”

After Éponine tucked her phone away, she wiped her hands on her dress as she pretended she didn’t tick him off.  
“‘Ponine.”  
“I’m not called that by you anymore.”  
“Éponine! Grantaire is a vampire! A. Vamp. Pire. And what are we?”  
“Friends with Grantaire?”  
“No! You should know the only reason why I haven’t stuck a stake through his chest is because I care about you and I don’t want you hurt.”  
“Do you know why we were so successful in hunting in our first few years in marriage? Because I looked after you. And you’re a better person now. So technically I’m doing the same thing with Grantaire albeit minus the romance and the paperworks.”  
“Éponine, the reason why we were successful was because I work the best when my adrenaline is high and every second I was with you my fight or flight was triggered.”  
“Yeah that was because I was an actual threat to be feared unlike you, you blond hedgehog. Also, don’t try to be witty; you’re bad at it.”

With that, she walked away, taking off her hat and transforming herself in her citizen-form with a long spell she whispered under her breath.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to leave a kudos and please comment <33


End file.
